


First Rodeo

by ThroughTheTulips



Series: 30 Days of Sabriel: An Erratic OTP Challenge By A Lazy Author [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Humor, M/M, Pranks and Practical Jokes, PrettySureTheModsHateMyTaggingStyle, SeriouslyFirstTimeWritingPornSoSorryAboutItPossiblySucking, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-30
Updated: 2013-09-30
Packaged: 2017-12-28 01:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/986251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThroughTheTulips/pseuds/ThroughTheTulips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel didn't call ahead, but somehow Sam doesn't mind.</p><p>30 Day OTP Challenge Day 6: Wearing each other's clothes</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Rodeo

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Enjoy your interlude for pornography. There be monsters coming soon, but I took pity on the guys and let them play before people start bleeding. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get graphic in the future violence (I mean, I’ll at least tag appropriately), but you have watched the show. Injuries happen. Also, if you haven’t read the fics before this you’ll want to; they’re all connected. At least read the one right before this as a lead-in.  
> Putting sexytimes in my sixth ever fanfic was maybe a little more demanding than I thought, but I didn’t want to cheat the medium by glossing over it. (I hear tell that slash scenes in an OTP fic are de riguer.) Sorry if this is a little rough; first rodeo and all that. 
> 
> Oh my Odin, that's going to be the title now.

_In Which Our Heroes Get to the Good Stuff Already_

                Because he was Sam, he’d done research. While Dean went after food or beer and Castiel was off on important angel business he sat at his laptop, trying to figure out how this new thing was going to work. He read advice columns, paged through message boards, even watched a few videos that sent him straight to the shower afterwards. During long car trips he’d mentally rehearsed ways to start things, considered what he’d try first and what could wait until later. If there was a later. Gabriel seemed to think there would be, and from the way Sam couldn’t stop thinking about it there probably would. Either way he prepared like it was a hunt. Like it was an exam at Stanford. He had plans.

                When he opened the door of the Outer Limits Inn to find Gabriel stretched out on one of the beds, he couldn’t remember a damned one.

                The archangel lounged with his shoes off, eating from a bowl of candy on his chest. _Three Stooges_ played on the television, but all Sam could see was the smirk turned his way. “Heya, Samsquatch. Want a Jelly Belly?”

                Sam didn’t answer. Instead he kicked the door shut in Dean’s face and locked it. Something huge, something hot and urgent and almost frightening was trying to claw its way out of his chest, and his voice didn’t sound like his own. “Put the candy down.”

                One blond eyebrows rose. “Well, someone’s cranky. Is this ‘cause I didn’t call ahead?”

                “Gabriel.” Sam’s legs carried him forward without conscious direction until he was standing over the bed. “Put. The candy. Down.”

                The other eyebrow shot up to join its companion. Gabriel paused, then deliberately popped another jelly bean in his mouth. “Make m-”

                That’s as far as he got. Sam hauled him up by the front of his shirt and slammed him against the wall. A tiny voice suggested the bed might be easier, but it was too late. He already had smiling lips crushed under his own. It was cherries today, the sweet and sour gummy kind, and Sam wondered distantly if Gabriel chose how he tasted. He filed the thought away for later. Right now the most important thing was getting his hands under the archangel’s shirt, skimming his fingers across strangely warm skin.

                His mind stuttered just a little when he found flat chest instead of breasts, but it didn’t lessen his need. It made him search for other differences: wide shoulders with dense muscles, large hands tugging at his hair, beard stubble scraping against his cheek. Everything was new and strange and exciting. Gabriel’s throat fascinated him. He couldn’t help testing the Adam’s apple with his teeth, biting just a little when a moan vibrated up through the golden skin.

                After a few minutes he realized clothes were in the way of his exploration. Sam drew back enough to pull the archangel’s shirt over his head, then reached down to unzip the other man’s pants. Gabriel laughed, leaning in to nip his chin. “Jumping right in, are we?”

                “You talk too much.” Sam hooked his hands under the narrow hips, turned, and dropped Gabriel on the edge of the bed. The movement dragged Gabriel’s jeans partway down his thighs.

                Sam had meant to kiss him again, to search for the vibrating tension he’d felt yesterday, but his attention stalled when he saw Gabriel was already half-hard. He’d never paid attention to another guy’s dick before. That was something you just didn’t _do_ , but this one was a foot from his face. He reached out, curled one hand around the base. Gabriel’s hips jerked. Sam glanced at his face, worried he was doing this wrong, and the other man gave a jaunty encouraging wave. “All good up here,” he said, focused expression putting the lie to his breezy tone. “Though if you’re taking requests you have a million years to stop doing that.”

                He was growing in Sam’s grip, skin stretching over hardening flesh. Sam ran his thumb up the shaft. There was a little ridge there, right where he liked to touch himself, and he dragged the edge of a fingernail along it the way he liked. From the noise Gabriel made he guessed it was pretty universal. The hunter flicked his thumb lightly across the tip, back and forth until beads of cloudy liquid squeezed out onto the head. Sam slid his hand over them, then tightened his grip and dragged his hand down. Gabriel groaned, hips thrusting up into the circle of his fingers. A grin stretched Sam’s lips. He did it again, twisting as he pulled, and the archangel swore out loud. That was surprisingly hot. Sam made it a goal to make him swear, experimenting with angle and pressure until the archangel’s breath came unevenly and fluid leaked freely down his fingers.

                His free hand kept moving almost on its own. He surveyed the sharp masculine bend of hip, curved around back to explore a flatter yet firmer ass than he was used to. His index finger caught between the cheeks and he had to squeeze his other hand, hold Gabriel back as the archangel let out a strangled curse. “Not yet,” he ordered, voice so thick he was surprised anyone could understand it. “You can’t, not yet. I want to be in you when it happens.”

                Gabriel’s eyes went pale and glittery. He snapped his fingers. A plastic bottle appeared in his hand, but he held it away when Sam reached. “Ah, ah, ah. I’m all for fast, Winchester, but you’d better lose some of those clothes.”

                Sam looked down and realized he was fully dressed, down to his boots. A growl rumbled in his throat as he began to strip. The archangel chuckled, pushing his own jeans all the way off. The sight of him completely bare on the bed sent a shock of lust through Sam. Watching a hand trail down to touch made him want to whimper with need. Gabriel poured a line of oil across his thigh, dipped a finger in it, and reached down between his legs without looking away, and just like that Sam was lost. One boot banged into the door. The other knocked over a lamp, plunging a corner of the room into darkness. His jacket and shirt ended up hanging over a chair back. He didn’t bother to throw his jeans at all, choosing to step out of them as he fell forward.

                Gabriel caught him, yanking him close and wriggling until he could wrap flexible legs around his waist. He grabbed Sam’s hand in his, slid their palms through the oil on his thigh, and tugged it higher. For a moment Sam was too distracted by his demanding mouth to understand. His fingers touched something tight and surprisingly hot, skin almost silky under his touch, and he remembered what came next. This part had seemed like a distasteful necessity when he’d read about it. Now, though, as he pushed a slick finger inside, he felt his own cock twitch with excitement. Gabriel moaned into his mouth. One of his own fingers joined Sam’s, urging him on, showing him how to curve inward to draw jerking shivers whenever they touched a certain spongy spot.

                With a not-unpleasant jolt Sam realized that he was close to losing control. His cock throbbed insistently, demanding any sort of friction to nudge it towards relief. He grabbed the bottle off the comforter and poured it directly onto himself. That probably wasn’t the most efficient way to handle the matter- he got as much oil on Gabriel as he did on himself- but when he knocked Gabriel’s hand aside and pushed he slid halfway inside in one go. A low, raspy groan escaped him. He had to fight to keep from throwing consideration out the window and just taking what he wanted so badly.

                Gabriel squirmed under him, actually whimpering with impatience. “What? Trying to remember if you left the gas on or something?”

                “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m supposed to let you… adjust.”

                The laugh vibrated through his whole body, making Sam feel dizzy with need. “You _researched_ this, didn’t you? Oh man, the fun I’m gonna have with you.” Gabriel rolled up to kiss him hard. “I’m an archangel, knucklehead. You couldn’t possibly hurt me.” This time the kiss was a bite, hard enough to leave teeth marks in his neck. “But don’t let that stop you from trying.”

                His voice was all breath and laughter and want. Sam braced his hands on the bed and gave in to the urge to shove. This was unbelievably erotic, not as slick as he was used to but tight in a way that was staggering. All of it was pretty damned staggering: Gabriel’s panted encouragement, the dig of his fingers in Sam’s thigh, their hoarse breathing, the way he pushed Gabriel up the bed with every rocking thrust. He was drowning in sensation and not giving a damn.

                Beneath him the amber eyes started to unfocus. Sam was close too, but he wanted to see Gabriel’s face when he broke. He shifted his weight to free a hand, sliding it between them. It only took two pulls. Two cramped, urgent, half-desperate tugs before the archangel threw his head back, mouth falling open as he came over Sam’s fingers. Unprepared for the reality of how fucking hot that was, Sam swore and joined him. His body jerked and twitched and shuddered its way through release as Gabriel did the same beneath him.

                For an endless, breathless moment Sam lay draped over Gabriel’s panting body, feeling the cold air on sensitive skin as he gradually slipped free. When he could move he started to shift sideways. The archangel’s legs tightened to hold him in place. “Uh-uh. Stay.”

                Sam tried to squirm loose. “I’m crushing you.”

                “Archangel. Crush-proof.”

                “I’m not even all the way on the bed, Gabe.”

                Gabriel grumbled and rolled them both over. He bent for a kiss, radiating lazy satisfaction. “A plus for your first time out, kiddo.”

                Sam couldn’t seem to stop grinning. “Yeah?”

                “Oh, yeah.” He pushed Sam’s hair from his face. “I hope you enjoyed yourself, cause we’re definitely doing this again. Next time-” His expression went blank, then shifted to amusement. “Oh. Huh. As criminal as it is to cover a body like yours, you need to get dressed.”

                The idea was utterly unappealing. “What? Why?”

                Gabriel found a shirt somewhere and threw it at him. “Castiel says your brother is losing his mind out there. Apparently you have his duffle, which has his wallet and keys. They’ve been waiting in the diner next door.”

                “Can’t you just zap it out to them? I’m all sticky,” Sam grumbled.

                The archangel raised his eyebrows. Suddenly Sam wasn’t sticky at all, was in fact wearing red cotton pants and the t-shirt that had been on his chest. Gabriel picked up his flannel from the floor and covered himself primly. “I am not your delivery service, Sam-a-lam,” he said, mouth twitching with suppressed mirth. “Duffle bag. Diner. Go.”

                Sam watched him button the flannel. He’d always had a thing for girls wearing his clothes. Apparently that went for guys he was sleeping with, too. “What’s in it for me?”

                Gabriel walked towards the bathroom, saying over his shoulder, “This shower’s good for about twenty minutes of hot water. Drop that off before it runs out and I'll wash your back.”

                There was no reason he should be interested again this soon. None at all. Nevertheless, when the shower started Sam jammed his boots on with no socks, grabbed the offending duffle bag, and went in search of the restaurant.

                The Outer Limits All-Nite Café sat across the parking lot, a blue-roofed building that had obviously been an IHOP in a past life. Sam pushed through the front door and flashed a smile at the woman reading behind the cash register. “Hi, I’m meeting my brother here. Tall guy, leather jacket, probably with a dude in a trench coat?”

                She glanced up from the book. Her face lit with laughter, though she struggled to keep it from her voice. “Uh, yeah. They’re over there in the corner, go on back.” Castiel must have done something, he thought resignedly as he followed her gesture. Someday they’d have to have a serious talk with him about attracting public attention.

                At the moment Castiel sat opposite Dean in a booth, watching as the elder Winchester finished an enormous plate of waffles. An untouched meal sat in front of him. Sam sighed as he walked up and dropped the bag with a thump. “Cas, man, you have to at least cut those up or something. It looks weird when you order food and don’t eat it. The hostess was laughing about it.”

                Dean’s eyes lifted from the gun magazine he’d been reading. He blinked, then let out a surprised laugh. “I don’t think she was laughing at Cas, Sammy. Those lover boy’s PJs?”

                “I guess so, why do…” Sam looked down at himself. He was, in fact, wearing pajamas. Red cotton pajama pants with a white t-shirt. He blinked, rubbed his eyes and looked again, hoping he’d see something different, but he’d been right the first time. Printed all over the pants and across his chest were three cartoony pictures in a neat row.

                An eye, a heart, and a rooster.

                _That sneaky, candy-eating bastard_.

                A grin tugged at his lips as he turned to go. Gabriel was _so_ going to pay for this, but somehow, Sam kind of thought that was the point.


End file.
